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Mulu Caves in Gunung Mulu National Park. He opened the brochure. The glossy pictures would have been enticing in another situation. The information gave the usual condensed and carefully edited descriptions, all of it what he already knew. The park was isolated and accessible only by a ten-hour boat ride or a small plane. It was the perfect place to hide, but it was also the perfect place for a trap. He suspected she hadn’t thought of that; she hadn’t had time.
He looked out the window and smiled.
She was in his sights. He wasn’t in hers.
Chapter Five (#ulink_4b864273-9826-557e-81f4-d281db00a0e5)
In the past hour Josh had laid a false trail from Miri, Malaysia, through Beijing and then to Hong Kong, a hotel registration here in Erin Kelley’s name, a car rental there. But that trail would delay the men who were after her only for so long—a day, maybe two.
“They’re offering ten million for the kill, Josh.” Vern folded his arms, his feet propped on the desk, his florid skin at odds with his blond hair. “Fortunately, the first man out of the gate isn’t one of the best.”
The passage of time since that conversation seemed nominal considering all that had transpired. Josh shifted his pack and artfully dodged milling passengers in Miri’s airport, all the while taking in the change in her appearance. Despite the fact that her new hair color gleamed a startling blue black and wire-rimmed glasses glinted beneath the artificial light and hid her vivid blue eyes, he still recognized her. Her frame was thinner, more fragile than her pictures had indicated, and the blue-black wig made her delicate skin look pale and gave the illusion of fragility. It was an amateurish attempt at a quick disguise, but it was effective for now. In fact, the black hair color was genius in a population where the average person was dark haired and dark skinned. It made her blend in just a bit more. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had time or hadn’t thought of the pallor of her skin accentuated against the unnaturally dark hair.
He shrugged. It would do and sometimes on the run, that was all you had. He imagined she’d be pulling out hair dye when they reached the Gunung Mulu National Park. It wasn’t a bad idea and it was all he had or, he amended, she had, at least until he developed some kind of rapport with her.
Erin Kelley Argon.
He had followed her flight halfway across the world and watched her survive despite the odds. Her path hadn’t been as simple to pick up as he’d first thought it would be. He’d been surprised at every turn. At times she’d shown gut intelligence for flight, as if she had done this at some other time in her life. Despite having help and advice from Mike Olesk, alone she had still gone through the steps with a polish that hadn’t left one misstep. That was evident in the fact that the Anarchists hadn’t expanded their search off the continental United States until shortly before he’d been deployed.
Yet nothing in the history he had gone over said she had ever had a reason to run, to hide. Until the murder, she’d led a normal life.
He was still in awe of those initial moments of her disappearance. Her flight had been brilliant, classic even. She’d put everything in place before running. She’d left San Diego and legally changed her name, dropped her last name while still in the country and in a matter of weeks had obtained a passport in her new name and country. And when she’d run, she hadn’t flown but instead had zigzagged north into Canada and taken a train across that country. But what he’d least expected was the creativity that followed. She’d jumped a container ship and taken a convoluted path before finally arriving in Eastern Europe. He had followed her journey as he had prepared for this assignment with an almost morbid fascination. She had kept him awake nights as he’d admired the ingenuity this woman had put into her escape.
A movement caught his eye.
She was at the ticket counter. He took a step forward, his gaze locked on her and then veered left. He had to transform from Josh Sedovich, CIA agent, to just Josh, tourist. He headed to the washroom and his own change of appearance.
* * *
ERIN TOOK A deep breath as she tried to portray a casual traveler. It wasn’t easy considering everything that had happened. This was the third flight since this morning’s tragedy. She was lucky there had been room on the flight to Miri, and now she hoped her luck would hold out again on the flight to the Gunung Mulu National Park and its legendary caves.
“Just made it.”
The voice behind her was male and too close.
She turned to face a shock of dark curly hair and brown eyes that sparkled with humor, yet something more serious seemed to lurk there. He was clean-shaven and attractive in a boyish kind of way. Still, she took an involuntary step back even as she took in his knee-length beige shorts and white T-shirt with Kuala Lumpur’s skyline emblazoned across it. Only an overly enthusiastic tourist would actually wear a T-shirt like that, never mind the socks. Yet in this world, her new world, nothing was a given. Nothing was as it appeared and no one was safe. It had been a harsh reminder, today’s lesson—short and brutal. She blinked back tears. She had to act as if everything was normal, as if she was no different than anyone else.
She offered him a half smile.
“You did,” she agreed as she assessed and discarded the man behind her. She’d never seen him before and his dress screamed tourist. He was no threat.
She turned away as the couple ahead of her moved from the counter and the clerk motioned her forward. She stepped up, dutifully provided her weight and that of her luggage, and within minutes was checked in.
“When do we board?” she asked.
The clerk swung around to where a clock face ticked the minutes. It was two o’clock. “Fifteen minutes,” he replied. “Through that gate.”
Outside the tarmac made this morning’s classroom feel cool. Heat shimmered and distorted the landscape. Even the low-lying shrubs that skirted the edges of the pavement appeared to be wilting in the heat. The distant hills rose in a scalloped frame of shadowed images that were fronted by patches of emerald-green forests and stretches of clay in hues of rust. Ahead of her stood a small prop plane with Malaysia emblazed in red and blue lettering on its narrow metal frame.
As they lined up to board the plane, Erin could feel every breath and her heart seemed to thump loud enough to be heard.
“It’s hot today, again. Odd,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?” the man with the so-uncool T-shirt asked.
“Oh, I... I’m sorry. I was talking to myself. Bad habit.”
“Traveling alone does it to one. Do it myself,” he said cheerfully.
“I suppose.” She tried to keep her attention on him. She eased her hold on her bags.
“A way to self-medicate,” he said. “Talking to oneself. At least, so I was told. Not sure what exactly one is medicating, but there it is—self-help. All I know.”
“Thanks,” she said with what she hoped was a smile. She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and felt the sweat that she knew must be glistening on her forehead.
“It is unusually hot,” he added.
She offered a half smile and held back as he and the others inched forward, waiting for bags to be loaded.
“Next!”
A bag was thrown onto the scale.
A heavyset man followed the suitcase, stepping onto the scale.
It was a pattern—weigh luggage, weigh passenger.
“Small plane—they have to juggle the weight.” It was T-shirt man, as she’d begun to think of him.
“Next.”
“After you,” he said and accompanied his words with a slight sweep of his hand motioning her forward as they reached the front of the line.
“Thank you.” Her hand tightened on her bags and she blinked and blinked again. She bit her lip and her hand stopped shaking. She turned her attention to him, noticing that he was taller than she’d first thought, but his broad build gave the illusion of a shorter frame. As she’d determined before, he was good-looking, but more than likely a bit of a goof if his souvenir T-shirt, too-long shorts and tennis shoes with socks were any indication. Yet he wasn’t as boyish-looking as she had thought. In fact, he wasn’t boyish-looking at all. In the sunlight, his features were almost craggy in a roguish kind of way.
“No worries,” he said.
“No worries,” she repeated.
She glanced around as she took her seat. No additional passengers, just the same ones she’d already accounted for. There was no one who might pose a threat. The passengers included an older couple with a slight camera addiction, judging from the camera bags that dangled around both their necks. Both carried a few extra pounds that were not the well-toned form she assumed would be required of a hit man. She shuddered at the thought.
She’d come close, too close.
She turned her attention back to the occupants of the small plane. The other couple, both male, was obviously excited about the trip and even more obviously in love. Both were slight and short in stature, and effeminate, one more than the other. Definitely not hit men material. No threat there, either. She folded her arms under her chest and looked out the window, but instead her thoughts went to the past and her family.
“You can’t leave us Erin.” Tears swam in Sarah’s eyes.
“There’s no choice, Sarah. You can’t breathe a word of what happened.”
“But Erin, you can’t leave. I won’t let you.”
“There’s no choice,” she repeated as she put an arm around her sister, hugging her close. “You’re pregnant and that changes everything.”
“You said I was a fool,” Sarah said. “And you were right.”
“The baby’s real, Sarah. And whether I agree with your decisions in getting to this state, or who you chose to have a baby with...”
“Father absentee,” Sarah muttered. “I think I’m off men, possibly for life.”
“I’ll protect you both, and the only way to do that is for me to get out of here.”
“But your job?”
“Not permanent. I’m substituting at a variety of schools.”
“But you love the kids. You live for your work.”
“There’s no other choice, Sarah. If I don’t leave the Anarchists will hunt us down.”
“Instead, they’ll only hunt you,” Sarah said sadly. “I can’t talk you out of this insanity?”
“You can’t.” She hugged Sarah. “We’ll be in touch.”
“I love you, sis,” Sarah said.
The engine vibrated the small plane, and as it cut into a turn that seemed to shift passengers and luggage alike, Erin held her breath.
She pinched her fingers together, her nails biting into skin. She looked out the window. Beneath them the forest canopy sprawled in lush greenery hugging ragged limestone cliffs that punctured the jungle floor with primitive ease. The forest appeared endless, and for a brief moment Erin allowed herself to be caught up in the natural beauty of this place. While her gut tightened as she remembered that she’d be isolated, alone and only temporarily safe, temporarily out of sight. She needed a plan and she needed it quickly.
“Completely awesome, isn’t it?” said the man who had waited in line behind her.
“It is,” she agreed as ahead of them the two couples admired the view out their respective windows, the two men silently watching the passing scenery, and the husband and wife taking an endless stream of pictures.
“Name’s Josh,” he said easily.
“Erin,” she supplied reluctantly. So far she’d managed to dodge conversation with any of the other passengers. She looked at him. She had to be sure he was no threat. She reminded herself that if he were out to kill her, he would have done so, unless, of course, he was waiting for the plane to land and for anonymity. But if that were the case, he wouldn’t have been wearing that ridiculous T-shirt.
You’re seeing danger where none exists, she told herself. Still, she had to make sure he was safe. Nothing in his demeanor suggested a threat of any kind. But she’d learned early on that danger came quickly and unexpectedly.
How long would it be safe to stay here? She knew the answer even as she asked the question. Not long, a matter of days until she got a plan together. She had to get out of Malaysia, get across the border to another country and safety. She needed to sketch a path, a number of flights within the border, before leaving Malaysia for good. She needed a plan and a map, and she had fled without either.
She took a deep, shaky breath. It had been a huge misjudgment, an error. She had thought she was safe. She had let down her guard. Now one innocent person was dead and she was running without direction.
“Something wrong?” Josh leaned forward, concern reflected in the furrows in his forehead.
Damn, she thought. He’d been watching her and she hadn’t noticed.
“You’re afraid of flying?”
The roar of the engine seemed to fill the small cabin.
She wished that was all it was. Instead of replying, she remained with her gaze riveted on the window and on land—a new challenge.
“We’re about to land. See.” He pointed. “It won’t be long. You’ll be fine.”
“I...” She began to assure him and to deny any fear of flying, and then stopped. The new Erin could not afford to offer too much information, too much familiarity. Lies were her new truth. It had taken her months to become comfortable with that, and still it rang false. She still had to remind herself. Lies weren’t who she was. The old Erin had been open, trusting, honest... No more. She took a breath, put a smile on her face and met him head-on. “Thank you. This whole small plane thing makes me a bit queasy.”
“Used to do the same to me,” he agreed. But this time when he looked at her there was something darker and more intense in the look that seemed to belie the flippancy that had seemed second nature to him.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?” This time his brows almost met over the question.
“I’m fine.”
The plane began its descent and the afternoon sun gleamed on the dense greenery, adding a sparkle-like affect. Another time it might have been amazing. Now, she could feel Josh’s eyes on her. She sighed. That was all she needed—a man’s interest.
Or did she?
She shifted in her seat and eyed him from the corner of her eye. A plan began to form. Her hand drifted to the window frame. She was a woman alone, on the run. That was what they were looking for. That was how she had left. An American posing as a Canadian, one who taught school and didn’t fit here. They’d looked in the schoolyards, and they’d found her.
Once.
They’d find her again.
Traveling alone made her stand out. She had to change her name again and her identity, but right in this moment, there was nothing to do but forge ahead with who she had become. But there was something she could change.
She looked over at Josh, and he smiled almost hopefully.
Maybe that was the best cover of all. She hated being alone, yet, oddly, she had become used to it. While she didn’t like it, she didn’t feel as uncomfortable as she had in the beginning. Of course, the beginning had been laced with so much fear. The fear was still there, but it was like white noise, something that had become her daily companion, a familiar entity that reminded her not to trust.
She’d trusted and Daniel had died.
Chapter Six (#ulink_b28bed50-6390-5d1a-a37f-6d83d62b286b)
Josh stepped onto the metal stairs of the plane’s exit ramp. He was right behind Erin, her black wig gleaming like a beacon in the late-afternoon sun. He looked to the right and left as he matched his steps to hers. The tarmac stretched out, cut through the relentless jungle that closed in around them. The resort was built well above the ground and away from the unpredictability of nature in a satellite of stilt-legged buildings adjoined by wooden walkways. It was rustic in an elegant fashion.
“Heard the king of Monaco stayed here. Or maybe it was a prince. Not sure, royalty of some kind,” the older woman with a camera dangling from a leather strap around her neck said to the man who stood beside her sporting a camera of his own.
A resort that had housed royalty, Josh thought. That was new since he last visited, and reassuring. The logistics of security had already been tested.
While he considered these things, his attention never turned from Erin. He was aware of every movement, of the fact that she now stood in line just ahead of him. He watched as her fingernails scraped against the strap of a small canvas bag, making an odd rough-edged sound, the only sign that she was nervous.
His gaze shifted slightly ahead of her to the couple closest to them, and his biggest concern because of that, because of proximity. They had matching hard-shelled suitcases on wheels—oversized and, he suspected, overpacked. The luggage was a fairly good indicator that this trip was the most risky of their travels, for the luggage almost screamed safe and their demeanor capped his assessment. They were no threat.
There was a low hum of chatter around them as the passengers stared at the amazing backdrop the distant cliffs made as they pierced their off-white talons through the lush green jungle. He watched the tourists, listening to what they said, how they interacted with each other, mentally recording all. It was humans who would cause any problems in the future, not scenery. Because of that, he didn’t care for limestone peaks or bat caves except as a strategic means of escape, places to hide if the worst-case scenario occurred. In the meantime, what he cared about were the nooks and crannies where an assassin could lurk. Again, he scoured the disembarking passengers and moved on to the resort crew that waited on the edge of the empty runway with a minivan to take those less limber up to the resort.
His gaze slid over the employee at the head of the line. The man was lean, sun-bronzed and approximately five foot four. He was dressed in pristine white cotton pants and a T-shirt with the Royal Mulu Resort logo emblazoned on it. Instinct told him he was no threat, but he’d wait to pass judgment once he had the evidence to back up that initial determination.
